Rise and Fall and Rise
by Arishia-chan
Summary: The pilots are dead . . . but are they actually gone for good? What would happen if they were offered a chance at a new beginning? Would they accept? Could they really gain back the life they never had?


This fanfic takes place many, many years after Gundam Wing/Endless Waltz. This is yet another attempt at creating happiness in the lives of the five pilots. I named it "Rise and Fall and Rise" because it follows the lives of the pilots. Rise, because they won the war. Fall, because they were still unhappy and eventually everyone forgot them. And Rise, because of . . . well, you'll see. ^_^   
  


**Rise and Fall and Rise**   
  


We've made houses for hatred 

It's time to make a place 

Where people's souls may be seen and made safe 

Be careful with each other 

These fragile flames 

For innocence can't be lost 

It just needs to be maintained 

I want to live bravely and love without fear 

I want always to feel the wings of grace near 

For innocence can't be lost 

It just needs to be maintained 

I've found happiness at last... 

-Jewel, "Innocence"   
  


***** 

Sweet fragrances, a taste of melancholiness and freshly-settled peace, wafted through shiny leaves just breaking into a new spring. The steady breeze caught those pinkish-white dogwood flowers, showering tiny crosses upon the figure standing alone below the spindling trees. The petite person pressed one delicate hand on the top of her wide hat, preventing the determined wind from snatching it away. The other hand was tucked up near her ear, the arm keeping long tresses of cinnamon hair from her face, the fingers curled around a single, red rose. Too bright eyes mirroring the almost cloudless sky shimmered in the warming sunshine; the eyes brimmed with unshed sparkles. 

She had refused to let them fall thus far. 

At her feet lay a mound of recently-disturbed dirt, only two bouquets ceremoniously decorating the grave. Even a war hero title hadn't bought friends. Hadn't conjured memories. How soon the world could forget yet another who had once been so vital to its survival . . . 

Finally, she spoke to the grave, voice remarkably controlled and steady. "You were the last to go, Heero. How did you ever manage this far without them?" 

The woman, for youth had long since left her, knelt on her knees, stretched out her hand and laid the soft symbol beside the simple tombstone. The petals splayed out slightly in a silent embrace across the gray surface. Her lips began to tremble and she mouthed a few words, things meant only for the man inside the coffin to hear. Words of regret and fulfillment. Words of apology and thankfulness. And words of love. One, two drops splashed upon the stone, darkening it with saltiness. She uttered a few more utterances and, straightening, heaved a complicated sigh. 

"Miss Relena? The meeting with the Preventors begins in five minutes." 

"I know, Pagan," she told the old man calling to her from the driver's side of a ghastly pink limousine. "Just one more--oof!" She made a futile grab for her hat but the wind had finally taken it from her and decided to play with the article, rolling it away from her like a large blue wheel. Relena ran after it, making desperate lunges. Her efforts seemed wasted when the breeze suddenly shifted and blew the hat right into her hands. Breathing heavily, she held it to her chest, her hair settling again behind her because the strange wind had just stilled like someone had turned a knob and cut off the air flow. She stared out over the expansion of green meadow she now stood in the centre of. It seemed so empty. And yet . . . Quiet butterflies drifted among wild flowers, and birds filled her ears with boisterous song, and uncut blades stretched to reach the Heavens. So full of life. 

Released from its confinement, a white shape fluttered down from the sky in front of her. Relena watched, eyes widening, as the fragile, whispery thing floated and nestled lightly on the ground. She bent and picked up the softness, running her fingers up and down the long spine. Her mouth turned up gently; she understood. 

Her hand thrust into the expanse of air just as the wind was disengaged again and took the silvery feather from her. She dropped her hat and ran after the dancing token, her lips breaking into a true smile, a noise wrenching from deep within her- a laugh. The wind pulled her along with it until she reached the gravesite once more and the feather gradually faded from sight, swirling up above where she could not reach just yet. Relena slowly blinked once, twice, turned and, collecting her hat, rejoined Pagan. 

"Ja ne, Heero. No goodbyes," she whispered, leaving the small plot of land behind. The rakishly pink limousine kicked up dust on the neglected country road. Relena saw no point in ever returning to the meadow that encompassed five graves now. 

Ja ne. Until next time. 

As Relena Peacecraft drove away, the whispery feather continued its journey up through the clouds, intent on reaching a certain marble-istic platform beyond the realm of breathing. Four human-like shapes caught in their own celestial glow stretched languidly upon that platform. A pale, angelic hand flickered out from one of the pink-twinged shapes and beckoned the feather to return to its owner. "Poor Relena-sama," a soft voice sighed, pulling its hand and the feather back within the confines of its comforting light. "She has been going to that lonely place for so many years now. Now perhaps she will let go of the past." 

"Thanks to you and your feather idea!" a second voice emitting from a bluer glow snapped. "I just know she will tell someone about her 'angelic' experience and then _all_ of us will be thrown to you-know-where." It snorted, seeming to cross muscular arms over its tanned chest. "I agreed with the braided baka's more docile approach- IIITAAIII!!! Let go of me!" 

"Injustice! Dishonor!" a third, darker grey shape mocked, laughing gleefully. "Arigatou domo domo! *My* plan would have been much better." It turned a rueful look to the pinkish glow. "You shoulda let me play with her hat some more! I wanted to keep her there and find out who passed this time." 

"Quiet, please," a fourth, emerald shape spoke up, gaining its companions' attention. "Someone from around where we lived passed without us knowing." 

A hush fell over them, an air of solemnity yet crackling with tension. Their strange, multi-colored glows meshed with each other as they leaned together to peer into a dark bubble embedded in a singular wall. 

"Heero!" cried the second being. "Heero is the one who passed!" 

"Ah-ha! Finally!" The grey shape shone brighter, as if building up energy from inside. 

"Don't forget to shape yourself!" the pinkish glow hastily reminded. 

"I know, I know. Make him feel more comfortable. Since when did _I_ ever make people uncomfortable?" 

The other three looked at each other and groaned. 

"Oh, come on! Have faith in me!" Its light glowed brighter and the shape gradually formed into the blazing figure of a boy. Shining violet eyes opened from within that light, shining with mischief. He stretched out and two slender hands formed and two black-clad legs. His companions watched as the boy flashed a passionate grin and bounced off to meet Heero, chestnut length of hair swinging out behind him. 

*** 

He stood at the end of a very, *very* long line of people. 

At least, he thought those blurry white and silver shapes were people. 

He tried to focus on the person in front of him but starring too hard hurt his eyes. If he let his vision go unfocused, he could catch the glint of an elbow or a fold of cloth. After a panicky moment, he raised his own hands and inspected the calloused palms, opened and closed the fingers. Everything solid there. Then what was wrong with all these others? 

He tried to crane his neck and squint over the shoulders in front of him to see what the hell he was waiting in line for. It never occurred to him that he was once again seventeen years old. 

He could hear some great voice booming in his head. Like all his senses, his hearing was muddled too. He thought he heard his name being called- his real name, not the one he had stolen- and two more hazy figures gently shoved him ahead of everyone else and through some weird bright light. 

Blinking stupidly, a bit dazed, he sought the cool flooring beneath his feet and collapsed to his knees. When the spots cleared, he quickly scanned over his new surroundings- dark royal blue marble touching his fingertips and an ever-moving upside-down bowl of . . . something . . . swirling above and around him. Soft, elaborate dots covered the shimmering surface like moving stars in an endless sea of black. A light humming caught his ear and he froze. A moment later, a brightly glowing figure stepped into the room from behind him. 

"Heero?" 

He could hear the figure questioning, his name coming out with a slight ethereal echo to it. Heero didn't turn around and kept his head bowed. The light was just too bright for his overly sensitive eyes. That, and he was . . . afraid of what he might see. 

"Heero," the figure said again and laughed a sound of tinkling chimes that dove into his ears and stopped his breath. Soft footsteps drew the figure closer, around his side, to stop just in front of the silent, dark-haired boy. Beneath lowered lashes, Heero could just make out a black boot surrounded in that greyish glow. 

"Look at me, Heero buddy." 

Heero did, just after the light began to dim. As the glow slowly faded, a black-attired boy peeked through. A thick, brilliant braid hung to his lean thighs. The boy laughed that tinkling laugh again. He placed one hand on his knee and leaned forward, stretching the other down to Heero. Cobalt stared at those slender fingers and crept up the arm to clash with twin violet depths sparkling even greater than the ever-present glow. 

"Duo . . ." Heero muttered, the word coming out as a moan, a longing. "I'm dreaming," he thought aloud. 

"No, Heero," the boy laughed. "You're dead." And then he flashed a grin, snapping Heero's composure. The Japanese boy reached out and grasped Duo's still outstretched hand. The braided boy winced a little at the tight grip. "As strong as ever," Duo grimaced, and pulled the other boy to his feet. 

Heero didn't stop there. His legs gave out beneath him, stubbornly refusing to hold him up as the shock weighted him down. Like slow motion, he crumpled against Duo, wounding his arms around the slim waist, smothering his face in Duo's faintly-glowing chest. Duo made a few startled noises but did not move away and draped his arms across Heero's shoulders. Duo could feel the slight trembling in those well-toned muscles. 

"Oy, Heero buddy," he said softly, lightly stroking the boy's back. "Been a long time, ne?" 

A shudder ran up Heero's form and the Japanese boy tightened his grip. "You're real." 

"Saa, Heero, don't break my ribs, kay?" Heero did not answer but the arms round his waist relaxed fractionally. Duo looked down at the bent head, the distress shouting from every tiny movement. _Ah, hell_. Duo dropped to his knees and tackled the other boy, throwing his arms around him and pinning him to the marble floor. "Hee-chan! Hee-chan! Hee-chan!" he cried, hugging him close. "I missed you sooo much! Didya miss me too?" 

"Baka," was the miffed response, muffled in Duo's shirt. Heero splayed his fingers across Duo's shoulders and attempted to shove him away. "Get off me." 

Duo obliged and pulled back just enough to peer down at the scowling boy. Those intricate cobalt eyes always _did_ give Heero's true feelings away. _The peace times made you soft, Heero buddy. Normally you would have just thrown me off yourself. _Perfect lips curled up into a comfortable archunder the Perfect Soldier's familiar death glare. _I like the change._

Compiling, Duo shifted his weight and rolled to the side, tucking lanky arms behind his head in a makeshift pillow. They both gazed up at the 'ceiling' above them, at the strange pinpoints of light moving around and swirling across the midnight expanse. For an insane moment, Heero felt like he was in a giant bubble. 

"Where am I?" Heero asked quietly. 

Duo flickered his eyes briefly over to Heero, then answered. "You're in the place everyone goes after they pass. You can call it the 'afterworld,' if you wish. Or 'heaven.' Most of us here don't call it anything. It's so . . . above a simple name." 

"Then I *am* dead." 

Duo wrinkled up his perk nose. "Ano, we tend to call it 'passing.' Death itself involves the soul more than just the body and that doesn't happen to many. If your soul dies, then you discontinue to exist." Searching for a better way to explain, he grabbed his braid and lifted the thick coil. "See this? My spirit doesn't really have a braid or any form at all. I'm just more comfortable like this. Apparently *you're* most comfortable with what you looked like during the wars too." Duo clucked his tongue chastisingly. "Really, Hee-chan. I figured you were over the spandex look already." 

Heero snorted at that and looked over Duo's outfit critically. 

"I happen to *like* black," Duo said defensively. "It's weird that we all decided to stay somewhat close to our 15-year-old appearances." 

"You keep saying 'we.' Who is 'we?'" 

Blue-violet closed momentarily as Duo sighed. "The others. You know- Trowa, Wufei, Quatre." 

"They're here too?" 

"Of course," said Duo, exasperated. He crossed his legs, one sinewy leg dangling in the air. "Sheesh. Who'd you think I was talking about? Relena and company?" 

"Relena's here too?" 

"Nah, ojousan's still with the living. Look." Duo waved a hand up and across the surface of the bubble. The speckles zoomed around rapidly in a fast forward motion before slowing again to their regular gentle flowing. "All these different colored dots are all the people still alive. That yellow one right there is Relena-sama." 

Duo's voice dropped to a low whisper. "There's something else I want to show you." One slim finger dipped into the blackness, triggering a series of tiny ripples. When the bubbles stilled, they were staring at a different series of dots. Duo pointed to one in particular, a bright white speck. "That's you, Heero, around the moment you were sent to Earth in Wing. And see, that's Relena again. And that's me," he pointed to a greyer speck joining the white and yellow ones. Heero's glowed brighter for a brief second. Once, twice. 

"What just happened?" Heero questioned, raising a brow. 

Duo threw him a sheepish look. "That was when we first met. You're dot flashed like that because I shot you." 

"Twice," Heero muttered. 

"H-hai." Duo turned his attention back to the bubble. "All five of us finally came together, ne?" 

"What do the red lines mean?" 

"That's what I wanted to show you. When two souls have that line linking them together, it means they're connected in life, and in passing. In the case of Wufei, Trowa, Quatre, you, and me, those red lines connected us before we even really existed. It's uncommon, I've been told." 

"Why are all those other dots moving toward us?" 

Duo didn't answer at first, but when he did, his return was almost inaudible. "That's when we found out Quatre had that disease. Remember that day?" 

"Aa." Heero felt compelled to look away but forced to watch what was unfolding. "He's growing dim now." 

"He's passing." Duo straightened, drawing up his gangly legs and resting his chin on the knobby knees. "Quatre's never spoken about it, but I know it was hard on him to be the first one of us to pass." 

"Duo," Heero said, frowning. "_You_ caught the same disease and passed a year later." 

"Yeah. Demo, Quatre was alone when he got here. Usually they try to get a Transposer that the new soul recognizes-" 

"Transposer?" 

"They're like your orientator to the afterlife. They show you where everything is and teach you how to change your shape and stuff. Quatre was my Transposer, since we knew each other. And I asked to be yours." 

"You had to ask?" Somehow, Heero didn't want to know the answer. 

Duo pursed his lips. "I don't think the higher ups liked the face that I once called myself Shinigami." Violet glistened and his bottom lip trembled. "I- I think I make them nervous." 

Heero stared at the despairing look on Duo's heart-shaped face. He felt something well up from inside his belly, through his chest, and finally bursting out his mouth in a ringing . . . 

Hearing Heero Yuy explode into laughter was the last reaction Duo had expected. At first the American gaped at him. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, dug his knuckles into his ears, and gaped again. Then he decided on scooting a little away from the former pilot and flashing an uncertain smile. 

"Uh, Hee-chan? You okay?" 

"I . . . am . . . fine!" Heero managed between gasps. The laughter finally subsided and he sat upright again, still holding his aching sides. 

Duo shook his head. "That was . . . scary." His eyes widened and he hit his forehead with a palm. "Damn, I wish I had a camera!" 

Leveling cobalt on the boy, Heero calmly reached over and smacked Duo in the back of the head. 

"Duo." 

"Hai?" 

"Shut up." 

"Hai!" Duo responded enthusiastically. He scrambled to his feet and thrust out his hand to Heero. "I'll show you around while we're waiting on the others." Heero just looked up at him. Duo waved his hand, grinning maliciously. "Scared?" His question was awarded with a grunt but Heero took Duo's slender hand in his own firm grasp. "This'll feel strange so don't freak out, okay?" 

Heero nodded, wondering what the hell was about to happen that could cause _him_ to freak out. The hand connected to Duo's started to tingle as that weird glow from before seemed to radiate inside of Duo. The idiot was grinning at him still, the gesture even reaching his blue-violet eyes. 

"Duo, nanda-?" His words were cut off when the glow brightened to a terrible splendor of soft greyness and Heero had to cut his eyes away to keep from being blinded. Insanely, in the back on his mind, Heero remembered having thought oh so long ago that Duo had a strong spirit. 

"Trust me, Hee-chan?" 

Heero was vaguely aware of Duo's echoing words but he was mainly focused on the buzzing forming in his ears and the ever steadily growing tingling in his hand. 

Duo squeezed his hand. "You gotta trust me." 

"I trust you," Heero found himself saying. 

Duo seemed to accept that because the damned brightness grew even more brilliant and slowly began to creep up Heero's arm to his shoulder, across his chest, down his legs. The Japanese pilot barely kept himself from crying out. One thing he had not been expecting was pain. Intense, flaming pain. Everywhere! He felt the glow spread up his neck and consume his eyes, flow into his mouth, and force its way into his lungs. Light, fire everywhere! 

And then it was all over and he could open his eyes again. Heero straightened from where he had bent to the floor, breathing labored. Duo stood beside him and looked apologetic, fiddling with the end of his braid. 

"Sorry, Hee-chan. It won't hurt as much next time." 

"Why . . . why . . ." Heero doubled over as another wave of excruciating pain washed over him. 

"Why did it hurt?" Duo finished for him. "Your spirit still thinks it has a body. When you saw your shaping being dissimilated you thought you were actually being pulled apart. Once your spirit stops having those unconscious senses, it won't hurt anymore." He bent and pulled Heero to his feet. "Come on. Let's get you some food, ne?" 

"How did you . . ." Heero stopped. "My spirit again?" 

"Hai!" Duo tugged on his arm. "The court's this way!" 

Heero allowed himself to be lead by the cavorting American, all the while gazing around at his new surroundings. At first he thought it was a city but whenever he tried to focus on it, the shapes would disappear. Glowing figures stood around everywhere and Duo greeted them left and right as they entered the court. Duo ordered Heero a bowl of rice and two cups of tea and they settled into a booth. 

"Most of the passed souls here don't _know_ they've passed yet," said Duo as he sipped his tea. "It was weird for me at first. I didn't want to believe that I wasn't alive anymore. I used to watch what was happening with you and the others all the time. Quatre came the first few times. Then Trowa passed and he stopped coming. Still I watched." Duo sat down his tea ad stared unreadably into the dark liquid. "When Wufei passed, I finally stopped watching the bubble altogether." 

"Why?" asked Heero softly. 

"You were the only one left that I really cared about and I knew I'd be seeing you soon enough anyway so . . ." Duo trailed off and took another sip of flavored tea. 

Sensing the other boy's melancholiness, Heero replied, "How are the others doing?" 

Duo brightened. "They're doing really good! Trowa and Quatre have a job working with this group that does work back down with the living. They do things like stir up the wind or something like that to get two wandering people together. Like realizing two people were meant for each other and giving them a tiny shove to get things rolling. Usually they work with people tied by the red lines. Wufei helped a little but he's not into all that mushy, star-crossed-lover stuff." 

Heero smirked at that, hiding it behind his cup. 

"Mostly we've just been coming up with different ways to kill time," continued Duo, hand slicing through the air. "Everyone's got their place whether it be helping new passers or running the reincarnation system or-" 

"Reincarnation?" Heero cut off the boy, whose violet eyes had grown large. "That exists?" 

"Um, y-yeah," Duo stammered. "Not many get to be reincarnated to it's an honor. I suppose they pitied us four enough to give the ability to us. Quatre and Trowa only use it for their work. But Wufei, man, you should've seen Wu-man! No sooner had he passed, he demanded to be reincarnated." Duo snickered at the memory. "The higher ups stuck him in a lizard's body out of spite and he got ran over by a car the next day! You should've seen his face when he got back! I swear his aura gleamed red for years! Wu-man was so pissed!" 

The American boy laughed, slapping his hand loudly on the counter top. 

Heero tucked a hand under his chin and asked quietly, "What about you, Duo?" 

Duo shrugged his bony shoulders in answer. "Nah, I was afraid I'd miss your passing, Heero buddy." Then he ducked his head and went back to sipping his tea. 

"Duo," Heero said in a low voice. "Is there something you're not telling me about this reincarnation thing?" 

Duo stared at him, hands tucked in his lap, shoulders hunched, like a little boy caught in the act of lying. "Gomen, H-Heero," he choked out, eyes lowered. "I just wanted some time with you before we met up with the others." 

"Duo . . ." Heero growled. 

The American flinched. "As I said, not many get to be reincarnated so we were really shocked when it was offered to us five." Duo paused, expecting anything but the blank look Heero was giving him. He sighed. "Don't you get it, Heero buddy? We've been promised a whole new life! We'll have parents and a chance to grow up normally, in the peace _we _created!" Duo leaned forward and grasped the hand Heero let him take, violet eyes shining with unmasked hope. "They can't make us go, Heero, but we all want to. _I_ want to. I wanna feel the wind on my skin again and jump with solid ground beneath my feet. I wanna run and play on the kiddie playgrounds like I never could before. It's nice here, of course, but I'm not ready to stay here. Heero, we want you to come with us." 

Heero stared across the table at him, face registering confusion, then shock, then anger. "No." 

"W-what?" 

"I don't want to be reincarnated," Heero said. "My whole life I've tried to die, or pass, or whatever you want to call it, then finally I do and you're asking me to go back and do it all over again?" 

Duo's face crumpled. "D-demo-" he started but Heero snatched his hand back and averted his eyes. Duo could feel himself start to hyperventilate, his spirit-formed body shaking. That was it then. After all the waiting . . . He stood suddenly, upsetting his chair. "S-sayonara, Heero buddy," he mumbled, and stumbled into the street. Heero watched him walk jittery till he was out of sight, then turned back to his tea. He stared down at his own face staring back up at him from the dark reflection. The unruly moss-brown locks that almost covered intense, aged eyes. Too much pain. Too much war. 

_Ojousan, are you lost?_

_I've been lost all my life._

Too much trying to forget. 

_You're going back to fight? Why?_

_It's the only way I know how to live_. 

Life. Living. Duo had offered him a chance at a _new_ life. A _new life_. Without pain. Without war. With people who loved him. 

"Shimatta," he breathed. "Duo . . . I am a fool." He slammed down his cup, blurring his reflection. He raised his head, cobalt shimmering under the learned coldness. Jumping up from the table, Heero bolted past a few hazy shapes and caught up with the black-clad figure. "Duo!" he shouted, grabbing the boy's shoulders and spinning him around. Duo squeaked and raised an arm to shield himself against any attack. Then he slowly lowered it when a blow didn't come and waited silently. 

Heero took a deep breath. "Iwillcomewithyou," he said in a rush. 

"Don't joke with me, Heero," Duo said somberly. 

"Since when do I joke?" 

Duo contemplated that for a minute and when he fixed his gaze on the other former pilot, his eyes shone. "You- you want to be reincarnated?" 

"Hai." 

Mouth crept upward and Duo took his hand. "Come on," he said softly. "The others are waiting for us." 

*** 

They stood on a scarlet platform embedded in a patch of puffy whiteness. One wall adorned the marble, a bubble-like screen set inside it. They had shaped themselves mere moments ago, shaping to somewhat near their old teenage selves. Their ethereal lights had faded to a slight color-twinged glowing but one tiny glance at them would have screamed other-worldly. 

Quatre fidgeted nervously, a delicate hand playing with the end of one of his draping pale blue sleeves. His shimmering aqua eyes were silver-rimmed and blonde locks were accented in pink tones. As small as Quatre Raberba Winner had been in life, in passing he was beyond lithe. 

"What is taking Duo so long?" he fretted. "What if Heero didn't *want* to be reincarnated?" 

A snort came from the copper-skinned boy gazing stoically in the distance for any sign of the other two former pilots. "Knowing Maxwell, he wanted to spend time with Heero before being reborn." Wufei turned slanted onyx eyes to his companions, the white folds of his cape billowing in the ever-present wind. Pausing, he added softly, "Just in case." 

"Just in case," Quatre agreed, nodding. 

"I was considering something else," Wufei said. Waist-length ebony hair flayed against rippled muscles as he pushed away from the wall and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "What if our memories do not return?" 

Quatre averted his eyes, unable to answer. 

A rustle of emerald cloth and Trowa, willowy and tall, bowed his head in thought. "Then we do not remember the terrible things that we all did during the wars," he asserted simply. 

"Or each other," Wufei pointed out. 

The little blonde's perfect lips turned down. "I worried about that too. D-demo . . . is it worth the risk?" 

Hollow silence cloaked them like a heavy blanket until sharp tinkling laughter shattered it. The boys turned to see the shaping forms of Duo and Heero. The braided boy was chattering away insistently while Heero, dressed simply in spandex and that tank top, followed silently behind. Quatre ran up to greet them, flinging thin arms around Heero who visibly tensed and then relaxed, fractionally hugging the smaller boy back. He gave a nod at the other two but was surprised by their own affectionate embraces. Duo stepped back with the little Arabian and watched the bewildered Heero. 

"How did he take it?" asked Quatre quietly. 

"Oh, not well," stated Duo, face still split wildly. "He reacted the same way I did when you told me. I didn't think he'd agree at first. I don't know what made him change his mind, but he did and that's all that matters." 

"Hai," Quatre agreed softly. "I wonder what it's like down there now . . ." He trailed off, tilting his head to gaze at the viewing screen in the singular wall. Bright aqua widened. "Relena-sama's passing!" he cried, startling them. The others rushed over and they gathered around the bubble. 

"How old is she?" whispered Duo, staring transfixed at the fading pinprick of yellowish light that was the former Queen of the world. 

"Eight-four," Quatre whispered back, not wanting to break the air of solemnity. "It's old age." 

Heero started, visibly shocked. "She wasn't old when I left." 

One emerald eye fixed on him as Trowa looked over at him. "Time elapses strangely here." 

"Let go, ojousan," Quatre breathed. The dot flickered once, then suddenly vanished. Thousands, millions of others seemed to swarm to it. 

"Is she . . .?" Wufei inquired. 

Quatre shook his head, blonde locks fraying. "She's not even pausing here. She's going straight up. Goodbye . . . Relena-sama." 

Exhaling, they all straightened. 

"You guys ready?" quipped Duo, smiling gently. 

They all nodded. The boys stepped to the edge of the scarlet-laced platform. A brisk wind wafted up from the depths below them and parted the fluffy whiteness, revealing the Earth so very far below. 

"Oh, man." Duo groaned, mock holding his forehead. "I'm gonna have nightmares about this one." Suddenly he reached and grabbed Heero's hand in his right one, Quatre's hand in his left. "Come on before I lose my nerve!" 

Wufei snorted, and took Heero's other hand. "A former Gundam pilot who's afraid of heights." 

"I am *not* afraid," Duo retorted. "I just don't enjoy pitching myself from who knows how freaking far without something to break my fall. With luck, maybe I'll land on you, Wufie." 

"Baka." 

Duo flashed a pink tongue at the Chinese boy. Not speaking, Trowa took Quatre's free hand and signaled his own readiness to them with a look. With a fierce battle cry, Duo surged forward and the five boys leapt into oblivion. 

I am not worthy. 

I have no name. 

I never lie. 

I am too kind. 

I will survive! 

Baka! Injustice! 

Boys don't cry! 

Omae o korosu. 

Please surrender . . . 

Too weak! Too weak! 

Ai shiteru. 

I will survive! 

See you in the next life, guys. 

Cold darkness escalating over their heads. Fighting. Struggling. They couldn't breathe. 

I will survive! 

Air trying to force its way into their lungs. Warm. Cold. Hot. Cool. Gunshot. Screaming. 

I will survive! 

Everything muddled. Weeping. Laughter. Glares. Smiles. Alone. Together. As one. Enemies. Friends. Love. 

Ai shiteru. 

Despair. Happiness. Peace, peace, peace! Red lines. Together forever. 

I will survive! 

Sky! They shot to the surface. Breathe in, out. Warmth. A home. A family. A chance at life. A new beginning. 

Finally. At last. 

Reborn. 

*** 

It was a quaint city, in what used to be middle Japan. Small, but rapidly growing on the fruits of peace. Nearly half a century of peace had settled on the Earth and the space colonies and prosperity and happiness had bloomed everywhere. 

Everywhere . . . except in the heart of Gavin Con. 

Oh, he *was* happy, to be sure. But there was something missing in his life. Something that he was still searching for. 

That search had brought him to this city with nothing more than a one-way ticket and a familiar hand gun strapped at his side. Of course he knew that it was crazy to even believe that this city would end up housing what he was looking for, much less that he would be able to find one of thousands of its citizens. 

Passerby gave him quizzical, distrusting looks and he couldn't blame them. A newcomer wearing a long, black trenchcoat and possessing an air of abnormality about him wasn't exactly grounds for friendlessness. He asked one of them nearby a placid question. The older woman's stubborn facade wilted under his dark gaze, and she hurriedly pointed. He thanked her and crossed the street in the direction she had indicated. 

Beneath a shaded awning, the young man stopped, glancing down at the scrap of paper in his hand, then up at the grimy metal plates above the door that roughly formed the matching numbers 1408. The name of the building, 'Maxed Out,' was scrawled on the front in bright colors, and a sign in the large window read, 'We're open! Come in or go away!' This had to be the right place. He couldn't stand seeing Colby's eyes fill with sympathy and remorse yet again. Dammit! Why did this have to be so difficult?! 

Gavin took another trembling breath and tucked the paper into a wide pocket in his trenchcoat. He stepped up to the green door, turned the brass knob, and pushed it open with a little force. A bell above the door rattled, signaling his entry. The name of the store reflected nothing of its actual contents. Hundreds of old paperback books crowded the narrow shelves lining every wall. Hard eyes swept over the room, void of any people, and Gavin maneuvered around tables laden with the dust-catchers and over to a cluttered desk in the back corner. He tried to peer inside the open door behind the desk, seeing only more boxes of books, and tapped one finger against the bell, sending a shrill ring echoing throughout the room. 

"Cyn-chan, will you get that?!" came a voice from inside the storage room. Gavin felt his heart clench at the pleasant tone of that voice. The deep tenor vibrated in the soles of his feet and he struggled to breathe again. 

"Hai!" answered an unseen, decidedly female voice. Moments later, a young brunette girl emerged from the closet, a bright smile on her face. "Can I help you, mister?" 

Gavin opened his mouth, but no sound would come out. His palms felt clammy and he cleared his throat, remembering. "I'm looking for a book called 'War and Peace'." 

The girl wrinkled her nose. "Never heard of it." 

_Of course not,_ Gavin thought drily. 

"Lemme see if my brother knows," she continued. She turned back around and put a hand to her still smiling mouth. "Hey, Mad D-chan! Can you come help him?" 

"Cynthia!" the tenor voice retorted, carrying a slight irritated twinge to it. And then a young man, no less Gavin's own age, stumbled out of the storage room, arms laden with a box full of books. "Cyn-chan," the boy said as he struggled with the large box so sleekly concealing his face from Gavin. Gavin blinked and stared again. The boy had a thick mass of dark cinnamon hair, messily half-braided and flaying against his thighs. Unable to speak, Gavin realized the boy was still talking. "- turn the sign around. This'll be our last customer for today. Then run along to your night class. I'll finish up here, ne?" Cynthia nodded and took off out the door. The boy continued, obvious to the fact that only Gavin was left. "Give Fongie a message for me, will ya? Tell him I accept that fencing match and tell him he'd better practice some more cause I'm sure to whoop his ass this time! Ha! Did I tell you about the time-" At that moment, the boy tripped on a fallen book and the box landed on the desk with a heavy thunk. 

The boy raised up, a sheepish grin lighting up those thin features. Suddenly the room was too small, too hot, too uncomfortable. The boy stared at Gavin and it was all Gavin could do to stare back. Those eyes . . . those unbelievably violet eyes . . . 

_After all the searching, I finally found another. I finally found him. But . . . does . . . he . . . remember?_

"H-Heero?" 

Gavin shuddered, hope swelling in his chest. 

The boy clenched his hands at his sides, lip quivering as he fought back the shimmering in his eyes. "Gods, Heero . . . you can't imagine how much I-" He cut himself off, eyeing the other man skeptically. "You *are* Heero Yuy, aren't you?" 

Despite the emotions overwhelming him, Gavin snorted. "Baka." 

That was enough for the other boy. He strode toward the cobalt-eyed young man, reaching out a slender hand to lightly touch his face. Gavin tensed as that calloused, warm palm glided over his cheek and ran through his unruly bangs. Eyes more violet than they had been in his previous life raked over Gavin's features so near Heero's and yet so different. The hair was a bit darker, cheeks a little more angular. The violet eyes finally met cobalt. The eyes . . . the eyes were so much more expressive. 

"Heero . . ." murmured Duo, for Duo it was. "You're really here . . ." Then his face lit up and split into a goofy grin. "Ne, Hee-chan! What took you so long to find me?! Never mind. You wanna go get some food and talk?" 

Heero felt his mouth stretch into a smile. "Hai." 

"Right! Let's go!" Duo grabbed his coat and hat, dragging Heero out the door and into a little restaurant next door. 

"Evening, Madison." The man behind the counter greeted Duo who shook his hand enthusiastically. 

"I want you to meet a good friend of mine! This is . . . uh . . ." he faltered, realizing he didn't *know* Heero's name. 

Heero stepped forward and offered his own hand. "Gavin. Gavin Con." The man nodded, looking a little confused and accepted the gesture. 

They gave their orders, the restaurant served many different kinds of dishes, and sat in a tall booth in the back. As soon as he wiggled onto the bench, Duo blurted, "Wu-man's gonna be so happy I found you, Hee~ro. Or rather you found me." He winked at the silent young man. "We'd just about given up hope on finding any of you." 

"Wufei is here?" Heero interrupted, raising a brow. 

Duo bobbed his head up and down. "Yup. He owns the Chinese dojo 'round the corner. It was the weirdest thing! He came in one day to buy a book on the history of something-or-other and we recognized each other right away! He said, 'Maxwell, I'd know that mess of hair anywhere.' Well, I just gave him a confused look and said, 'Gomen, sir, but my name's Madison Dalton and I haven't a clue what the hell you're talking about.' You should have seen his face!" Duo laughed, slapping his hand against the counter top. "He got all red and sputtered, 'I- I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else!' and tried to escape the store. I ran up to him and yanked his ponytail- he's got a really long one, looks funny- and said, 'Wu-man, you haven't changed one bit!' 'ITAII!' he yelled. 'Get off me, Maxwell! And my name is Fong Wi!' We~ll, he should've have told me that because I started teasing even more and won myself a bloody nose, and that was that." Duo finished his story in a rush and proceeded to stuff himself with steaming food. "Whatta 'bout you, Hee-chan?" he inquired, between mouthfuls. "What have you been up to? Met anyone?" 

"Aa. Quatre, reborn as Colby Varick." 

Duo sputtered, soda shooting from his nose. "Quatre's Varick?! *The* Colby Varick?! The multibillionaire?! What, did he inherit all that wealth *again*?!" 

"From what he told me, he built his corporation from nothing. He said he was very surprised himself when his plan to populate Venus wasn't rejected." 

"Amazing! So, what about yourself?" 

Heero shrugged. "I work part-time as a cop on L11." He pulled open his trenchcoat to partially reveal his firearm. 

"Just couldn't stay away from guns, could ya, Heero buddy?" 

"And you with your braid?" Heero reminded him cooly, an elegant eyebrow slanting upward. 

Duo tugged his half-unraveled locks over his shoulder and ran slender fingers down it. "Just couldn't bring myself to cut it off, ya know? I usually keep it only half-braided. I'm not Shinigami anymore," he asserted, eyes darkening. 

"Of course not," Heero said gently. "And I'm not a soldier any more." 

"You're a cop,' Duo added, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a grin "That's pretty damn close." 

"Baka," Heero snorted but his eyes feigned smiling. 

Someone cleared her throat and they both looked up at the girl from the store. "Mad-chan, Wi wanted me to give you this." She glanced uncertainly at Heero and handed a sealed envelope to Duo. "I'll be at home." 

"Thanks, Cyn-chan," Duo said and they watched the girl leave the restaurant. He caught the stare Heero was giving him and grinned bashfully. "She's my sister. Cynthia lives on L8 with our mother and she's just visiting for the summer." 

"Does she know?" 

"About what we used to be? Nah. If I tried to explain, she wouldn't believe me anyway. Young people these days have no clue what fighting is." Remembering Wufei's envelope, he snatched it up from the counter top and broke the seal. Duo pulled out a slip of paper and reach it aloud. "Madison. Tovi Brice- look familiar?" From the envelope, he also retrieved a folded newspaper clipping. Duo skimmed it, burst into maniacal laughter, and passed it to Heero. 

"Well, Heero buddy, looks like the circus is in town." 

Heero looked at the paper and whipped out a small laptop from his coat. Ignoring Duo's crude remark, he punched in a phone number. 

*Varick Corporation. How may I help you?* 

"This is Gavin," Heero told the woman. "Colby please." 

*Hai! Of course, Con-sama. One moment, please." 

A click and then- *Heero? Heero!* 

"Mission accomplished," said Heero, glancing at Duo who was trying to peer over and see Quatre's face. 

*Right! I can be in Japan in two hours!* 

Heero closed his laptop and hid it away again. He watched Duo sit back and tap a finger rhythmically against the counter top. 

"So, Hee-chan, why don't we have ourselves a dear ole reunion, ne?" 

*** 

hate love pain relief tears sorrow joy weep laugh sob smile frown grin stare gaze angry enemies friends lovers family sharp soft mean gentle stoic easy sigh harsh sigh sigh sigh love happiness war peace peace . . . peace . . . forever . . . oh peace . . . 

*** 

My name is Heero Yuy. I used to be a Gundam pilot. Hai, I belonged to that group of five young boys whose childhoods were stolen away from them, whose sole purpose in life was to obey orders without question and complete mission after mission after mission. Those five boys, after years of peace, have been forgotten, have been tucked into the back of every elder's mind and never entered the mind of a child. 

But, we won't let ourselves forget what we used to be. It's like we hold onto what we know with desperate fingers lest every memory of what we accomplished waste away. 

We were weak, though. So weak that we let the wars corrode who we were inside. So weak that we became mere used tools of thousands of battles. 

And then we were given a chance at a new life. 

Reincarnation. The dictionary Webster calls it the rebirth of a new form of life. I call it a miracle. 

One of my fellow pilots, Duo Maxwell, once told me that he didn't believe in miracles. That a miracle was just a name given to something that couldn't be explained at the time. 

Yet I stand at the bottom of this hill. Watching the other four former pilots climb to the top, watching them embrace each other, watching them smile, really smile, like they never were allowed before, I realize that miracles *do* exist and that I am watching one happen at this very moment. 

As I watch, Duo says something to them and their laughter wafts down the hill to pull me into its tinkling arms. Duo tugs on Wufei's stout length of black hair- which is very long indeed- extracting the indignant noise of protest he was trying to coax out. Wufei makes motions like he's pushing up his sleeves and strides toward the violet-eyed boy, who only nimbly leaps out of his grasp, cat-calling and laughing merrily. 

Duo slaps the sputtering Wufei on the arm, then dashes away. The copper-skinned boy throws an unamused look at Trowa, slides up beside the taller boy, and prompty pokes him in the side, suddenly fleeing in the direction Duo went. Trowa stands there for a moment, light green gaze unsure. Then I see his whole face light up. He quickly pats Quatre on the head and takes off in the opposite direction. Quatre laughs and chases after them and they dodge around the whispery tree at the top of the hill, catching each other and tickling and drinking in heavy, great, ecstatic breaths of sweet air. "Hee~ro! Whatcha staring at?!" 

I blink and stare up into two gorgeous violet eyes, alive and full of mirth. 

"Hn," I reply. 

He tilts his head to one side, leaning forward, his luxurious braid spilling over one bony shoulder. "You," he says, winking. "Are most definitely Heero." And then he startles me by raising a hand and tapping me on the nose with a slender finger. "Tag. You're IT!" In a flash, he scrambles up the hill away from me but I only stare at his retreating, bouncing form as he shouts gleefully, "Hee-chan's IT! Hee-chan's IT!" 

They slowly gather at the top by the tree, breathing heavily, so alive, so free. I can hear them calling my name. 

*Heero! Odin! Gavin! Heero!* 

Whispers in my ear. 

"Hee-chan!" Duo calls. "Do you want me to wait until the *next* life to play 'tag' with you?!" 

I answer by tackling him. We roll around in the grass, feeling more bodies pile up on top of us as the others join in. Limbs tangle as we fall in a heap together, panting quietly. Somehow I know everything will be fine. I am among friends, my eternal friends. We catch each other's eyes. 

We smile knowingly. We laugh joyfully. And we *live.* Happy. At last. 


End file.
